


Falling For You

by Autumns_Slumber



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mystery, Parody, jinxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6750901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumns_Slumber/pseuds/Autumns_Slumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first day of April, and Harry gets trip-jinxed. Who rescues him? None other than Severus Snape, the snarky, greasy potions professor! No doubt about it, neither of them are pleased...so what comes of this? April Fools day fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling For You

**Falling for You**  
  
******************

  
  
“Potions again,” groaned Ron. “Didn’t we have that just two days ago?”  
  
“Stop your moaning, Ron. If Snape hears you complaining, you’ll get detention,” chided Hermione as the Golden Trio walked through the Slytherin dungeons to get to the Potions classroom.  
  
“Wouldn’t want to be cleaning out cauldrons wandless, would you Ron?” asked Harry.  
  
“Ugh, no way,” moaned Ron in horror.  
  
“Shush, the both of you. We’re here,” Hermione warned as they entered the classroom.  
  
They were almost late, and that didn’t escape a certain Potions Professor's notice. “Potter, Weasley, Granger. Five points each from Gryffindor for tardiness!”  
  
Ron gaped at the man, but Hermione wisely grabbed his elbow and led him to their seats. Harry took his seat next to Ron while Hermione moved one row forward to sit beside Neville. As soon as they were seated, Snape began to bark off instructions on the potion they would need to brew by the end of the class. It was the first day of April and finals would be coming up soon, so the students were getting even more work than usual in preparation for the exams.  
  
As they sorted out ingredients and lit their cauldrons, Ron grumbled about how unfair Snape was. “Honestly, we weren’t even late!” he grouched in hushed tones, warily watching Snape make his rounds about the classroom. “Blimey, Harry, five points each for entering class a minute before the bell rang? He’s psycho, I tell you.”  
  
“Quiet or you’ll get us in even more trouble,” Harry warned as he tossed some carefully chopped and measured thyme leaves into the cauldron.  
  
“Oh come on, you have to admit he’s a snarky, old, greasy git, isn’t he?” Ron continued as he passed the diced lavender to Harry.  
  
“Yeah, but don’t let him catch you saying that or it’ll be detention for—wait, why did you dice the lavender? You were supposed to chop it,” Harry commented.  
  
Ron glanced at the ingredient and frowned, then shrugged. “What does it matter? It’s the right measurements.”  
  
“While I sincerely doubt it is correctly measured, even if it were, it would not matter if it is not chopped, Mr. Weasley,” drawled the object of their conversation from behind them.  
  
Both boys jumped and guiltily turned to face the professor. “Er, sorry, Professor Snape. We’ll chop it,” Harry said.  
  
“And waste more of my ingredients?” asked Snape with one brow arched. Ron gulped. “While I could see the benefit of allowing a student to use some more lavender to correct a mistake, I see no reason why I should allow the two of _you_ to have more lavender when you will bungle up the potion in any event.”  
  
Ron looked like he was about to say something stupid, so Harry quickly cut in. “We won’t bungle it up, Professor. We learned this one back in second year, right? It’s not difficult.”  
  
That sharp gaze turned to Harry, the brow raising higher. “It amazes me that you can remember so far back when you seem to forget homework that is assigned to you the day before, Mister Potter. However, I will relent and allow you some more lavender. But, should you mess up this potion, it will be detention for the both of you and ten points from Gryffindor. Each. Would you still like more lavender, Mister Potter?  
  
Ron’s eyes widened and he glanced at Harry, shaking his head. “It’s not worth it, Harry. Let’s just take the zero,” he whispered urgently.  
  
“It pains me to admit that I agree with Mr. Weasley. You should take the advice of your friend,” sneered Snape.  
  
Harry was about to, but hearing that comment made him change his mind. Ron groaned when he saw the determined look on Harry’s face. “We’ll take the lavender, if you don’t mind, Professor,” Harry said.  
  
Severus Snape, knowing a challenge was being issued and inwardly gleeful that he would be able to give detentions and take away Gryffindor house points, inclined his head slightly and gave Potter some more lavender before walking away to inspect Granger's cauldron. Longbottom's, surprisingly, hadn’t exploded yet but of course that was likely due to Granger helping the clumsy oaf. Without proof of such an action, Severus of course could do nothing more than glare at the both of them, causing Neville to quake in barely suppressed fear.  
  
As he inspected cauldrons, he plotted different ways to torture Weasley and most especially Potter. Having them scrub the cauldrons out with rags was a pleasing thought. Or better yet, having them scrub the  _floor_  with rags. He would have them count and restock ingredients, as that would keep them for several hours and would surely bore them, except he knew they would most likely bungle up the job or cause some sort of explosion while handling the more delicate ingredients. Of course, handing them over to Filch was always a pleasant thought, were it not for the fact that he knew Albus kept Filch under a tight leash lately.  
  
He was so caught up in his musings that he almost forgot the time. Almost. Swiftly walking back to his desk and sitting in the large chair behind it, he barked out, “Bottle and label your lotions and bring them up here. Potter!” He smirked cruelly when he saw the boy jump, “Bring yours up here right now and I shall test it before you leave.”  
  
“Merlin, Harry, this better be correct,” Ron muttered.  
  
“It is,” Harry said confidently as he marked the label on the bottle. He made his way to the desk and when Snape pointed to the spot next to his chair, he fought back the nervous gulp and strode with as much confidence as he could muster around Snape's desk. He was all of two feet away when he felt the jinx hit him seconds before he tripped over his own feet.  
  
Throwing his arms to the side in a feeble attempt at regaining his balance, he fell forward and landed…right on top of one very shocked Snape. In fact, Snape's cruel and pursed lips broke his own lips fall. It was such a hard landing that Harry tasted the tang of metal from where his teeth smashed into his lip. Their noses collided and bumped into each other. Then Harry resumed his pull of gravity and slid down so he was sprawled, haphazardly, between Snape's legs.  
  
It was only a few seconds, but it seemed to last forever before he realized what had happen and Harry yelped and pushed himself away from Snape, mistakenly using the man's thighs for leverage, and he promptly fell on his arse a foot or so away.  
  
Snape, for his part, seemed at first at a complete loss of what to do or say. His mouth opened but nothing came out. Slowly, his face contorted into rage. Harry, still on the floor, scuttled backwards with a gulp. “I-I didn’t do anything, sir! It was a-a jinx! I'm sorry!” he yelped.  
  
Snape jumped up from his seat and glared down at Potter. He’d felt the jinx in the air as well, but he didn’t know which to be more furious with: The culprit who cast the jinx, or Harry for landing on top of him. No, not just on  _top_  of him, face-planting himself with lip-smacking precision right onto him.  
  
He decided he was more furious with the culprit, and turned to face the class, letting his rage on them. There were audible gasps and stunned expressions, several students gaping in horror. Snape snarled. “Who cast that tripping jinx?! Confess now or you’ll ALL serve detention!”  
  
He scanned the faces, but every last one of the students wore expressions of horror or shock. Most with both. “Fine! Detention for all of you, to be served tomorrow night at six! And ten points from your houses, for each of you!”  
  
There were more gasps and everyone looked around frantically, trying to find someone to blame the jinx on. Draco Malfoy, who had been watching with wide eyes, now decided to protest. “But Professor, none of us Slytherins would have done that! It was probably Potter jinxing himself!” he whined.  
  
Snape turned his glare to Draco. “I believe that jinxing Potter would be  _very_  Slytherin, Mister Malfoy, and I highly doubt that Potter has the capabilities to jinx himself  _without a wand_ ,” he snarled, pointing to where, indeed, Harry’s wand lay beside his cauldron. “Detention, for all of you!” he repeated.  
  
Harry was still on the ground, staring up at Snape with horror. Snape turned his death-glare to him, and Harry ridiculously counted his blessings that Snape was not a basilisk. Snape barked, “Up, Mister Potter! You will serve TWO detentions for being unable to avoid such a pathetic jinx!” Harry jumped to his feet and nodded quickly, dashing back to his seat. Snape looked about the class again. “OUT, all of you!”  
  
Everyone sprang to their feet and gathered their materials, quickly cleaning up and dashing out of the classroom. Harry couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Ron and Hermione had to literally run to catch up to him. The metallic tang of blood on his tongue and dull throb from his nose reminded him of just how hard he fell.  
  
“Oi, Harry, blimey that was  _horrible_!” Ron exclaimed as he panted for breath once they had caught up to Harry. “I’d like to get my hands on whoever cast that jinx, making you fall on Snape! UGH I think I’m going to be sick! You kissed him!”  
  
Hermione's eyes widened and she elbowed Ron, hard. “Ron shut up! You think that looked awful, how do you think Harry feels? He was the one who kissed Snape!”  
  
“I did not KISS Snape!” Harry exclaimed, horrified. “I FELL on him! Because of some idiot casting a JINX!”  
  
“Right, of course, Harry!” Hermione eagerly agreed.  
  
“Blimey, but Harry, did you have to land on his  _face_?” questioned Ron in pure disgust.  
  
“Well I didn’t have a choice now did I? Gravity pulls you  _down_  not  _left_  or  _right_ ,” said Harry sarcastically. Wincing, he licked his upper lip, where it was still bleeding sluggishly.  
  
Ron shuddered. “That was awful, mate. Disgusting. Who would ever want you to kiss Snape?”  
  
“Oh for the love of...I DID NOT KISS SNAPE!” roared Harry.  
  
The students around them all stopped and turned to stare at him with wide eyes.  
  
Harry glanced around angrily. “What?!” he barked, causing them to jump and hurry away. Harry scowled and proceeded to walk to their next class. Ron and Hermione wisely didn’t comment on it again.

*********************************

  
  
By lunch, it was the talk of the school. Harry Potter had kissed Professor Snape. There were several versions of how the event occurred. So far, Harry hadn’t heard the actual event. The closest was that he had been tripped by a jinx, and upon knowing he would fall on the floor, used quick Seeker reflexes to twist about so that he landed on top of Snape instead of the ground. One version actually said he passionately leaped into Snape's arms and snogged the man senseless, then burst into tears when his advances were unwelcome.   
  
When asked what really happened, Harry attempted to clear up the mistakes but everyone who heard the actual story looked thoroughly disappointed. Some even went so far as to say they didn’t believe him. Of course, his fellow Gryffindors believed him one hundred percent. Well, almost all of them did. Okay, the better portion did. Sort of.  
  
Needless to say, Harry was infuriated, and nothing Hermione or Ron said could make him feel better. He scowled down at his plate and ignored the taunts he received from some of the other tables. Hermione and Ron, of course, tried to stop the nasty rumors and comments but as this was the juiciest gossip the school had had since the Weasley twins graduated, there was nothing that could stop it.  
  
Even the Headmaster, who gave a speech about how spreading rumors about ones friends that are not true is mean, couldn’t allay the comments. So Harry resigned himself to being the Boy Who Kissed Snape. He wondered if that was better or worse than being the Boy Who Lived. The jury was still out.  
  
Harry absolutely refused to look at the head table where Snape would be eating his own lunch. So, Ron decided to tell him how Snape looked. “He’s right angry, he is. I’ve never seen him scowl so fiercely before! He’s glaring at everyone that looks at him! Oh, shoot, Harry, he’s looking this way!” Ron finished in a horrified whisper.  
  
Harry couldn’t help it. He had to look up. Cautiously, he looked up at the table through the fringe of his lashes. Snape's dark death-glare gaze stared back at him. Harry quickly ducked his head, audibly gulping.  
  
“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, mate,” Ron whispered. Harry looked up long enough to shoot a scowl at his best friend, and Ron had the decency to look ashamed. For all of two seconds.  
  
Harry sighed and pushed his plate away. He was all-too-eager to leave when lunch was dismissed. He ducked his head to avoid the stares as hurriedly weaved his way through the thick throng of people. So, of course, when he felt the trip jinx hit him for the second time that day, he was caught completely off guard. He cried out and pin-wheeled his arms frantically but of course that was no use. He managed to get his feet under him enough to stumble forward a few feet, but then he collided into someone’s shoulder, which knocked him off balance again and he toppled forward with such force that he knocked over the person in front of him, who shouted as they both fell to the ground.  
  
And for the second time that day, Harry found himself sprawled on top of none other than Professor Snape. Luckily, they missed each other’s mouths. Though Harry didn’t know how much of an improvement it was to get a mouthful of that greasy hair. He spat it out in disgust.  
  
Beneath him, there was a groan, and Harry suddenly realized that he was  _still_  laying on top of Snape. Even he could realize that falling backwards onto a stone floor had to hurt, especially with someone landing on top of you. Clumsily, he pushed himself up. In the process he first managed to elbow Snape in the ribs, then practically punch him in the thigh.  
  
Snape growled and barked, “Get OFF of me, Potter!”  
  
Harry yelped, “I’m trying!” The problem was, his robe was hindering his movement, as it apparently had managed to get itself caught under Snape. When he finally yanked the blasted hem out from under the man, he had to grin proudly as he sat up. Unfortunately he quickly realized he was not only grinning but grinning while straddling Snape's waist. The loud whispers didn’t fail to escape his notice and when he looked down to see Snape positively  _fuming_  Harry flushed and quickly pushed himself up...kneeing Snape in the groin in the process.  
  
The man gasped, then groaned, and Harry yelped and jumped to his feet, staring down at the man in horror. Snape actually grabbed his own groin, face wincing for several moments before he seemed okay enough to push himself into a sitting position. Glare was not a strong enough word to describe the look he gave Harry. Then he noticed all the people around them, staring and whispering. He glared even harder at them as he pushed himself to his feet. “What are you looking at?! Lunch is dismissed!” he barked.  
  
Immediately, people began scurrying away, but Harry stood there in mortified embarrassment, paralyzed. “I-I’m sorry, Professor! It was that jinx again!”  
  
“Potter! If you cannot avoid a simple tripping jinx I fear the wizarding world is doomed!” Snape snarled.  
  
“Now now, Severus, that is a bit harsh, don’t you think?” asked Dumbledore, who was standing a few feet away with Hermione and Ron.  
  
Snape glared the Headmaster. “Albus, this is the second time today he has been jinxed and  _accidentally_  fallen on me!”  
  
“Yes yes, so I heard. Unpleasant business, the tripping jinx. Hits one and before they know it, they’ve fallen. Very difficult to avoid, being that it is such a simple spell,” commented Dumbledore. He smiled reassuringly at Harry. “I’m sure you did not intend to land on Professor Snape, right Harry?” When Harry nodded, Dumbledore nodded as well. “As I thought. Then of course you should thank the Professor for being kind enough to break your fall, don’t you think?”  
  
Harry, gulping, nodded again. He turned his gaze back to Snape, and couldn’t help but feel fear trickle down his spine at the glare he was on the receiving end of. “Th-thank you, Professor Snape.”  
  
Snapre curled his lips in disgust. Dumbledore wisely cut in before the man could say anything. “Now, I believe you all have classes to go to, correct? Yes, best get to them.”  
  
Snape glared at Harry a moment longer, then nodded curtly. He shook out his robes and ran palms over his clothes to ensure that they were straight, then raked a hand through his greasy black hair and nodded again to Albus before spinning about on his heel and exiting the Great Hall in a flurry of robes.  
  
Hermione and Ron rushed to Harry’s side as soon as the man was out of sight, and Dumbledore left them to chat. “Oh, Harry, what rotten luck having it happen twice in the same day!” Hermione exclaimed.  
  
“Ugh, that was gross. You know what I think? I think Snape is doing it! He’s always  _right there_  when you fall!” Ron exclaimed in horror.  
  
Harry looked just as horrified, clearly finding some merit to that idea. Hermione quickly scoffed. “Nonsense! Did you see him? He was  _furious_. Whoever is doing this is going to be in big trouble when Snape finds out.”  
  
“Finds out? How is he going to find out?” Harry asked dismally. “Twice now, and he can’t figure out who did it!”  
  
“Well, he’ll figure it out next time,” Hermione said reassuringly.  
  
“ _Next_  time?!” cried Harry. “I don’t want there to  _be_  a next time!”  
  
“Yeah, ‘Mione, twice is three too many!”  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but then turned her gaze to Ron, incredulous. “Twice is three times to many? Honestly, Ron, do you even  _hear_  what comes out of your mouth?”  
  
Ron frowned, then scowled. “Well...oh sod it.”  
  
Harry frowned as the two of them began arguing. Rolling his eyes, he resigned himself to his fate and followed them to their next class.

********************************

  
  
The potions classroom was full of Gryffindors and Slytherins by six o’clock. No one had brought their wands, since they had been instructed not to. Snape divided everyone into groups and assigned a variety of tasks. The Slytherins were dealt with potion ingredients to count and restock. Gryffindors were giving more hands-on work. Namely, scrubbing the cauldrons and floors.  
  
Snape barely glanced at Harry, which made the boy even more nervous. Snape didn’t even bark at him. In fact, Snape seemed to be avoiding him at all costs. Twice as nervous because Snape  _wasn’t_ yelling at him, Harry decided it best to keep silent and continue doing whatever Snape assigned their group to do. He took extra care scrubbing the cauldrons so that they were thoroughly clean. Luckily he didn’t have to worry about ignoring the nasty comments, since even the Slytherins knew better than to say anything with Snape in the room, watching their every move.  
  
Four hours later, everyone was exhausted. Finally, everything was clean, though it seemed there were still many ingredients to be counted and restocked. However, Snape allowed that to go since it was obvious no one could possibly complete it all in one day. They were dismissed.  
  
Harry kept his head down and watched his step carefully, and walked as far away from Snape as he could get, which was difficult since the man was standing by the door, making sure no one took any ingredients with them. Somehow, Harry was still surprised when the jinx hit him right as he was about to pass the man. One second he was walking fine, the next he was heading for a face-dive into the stone floor. Just when he had resigned himself to the fact that yes, he would likely have a smashed nose from this, two strong arms grabbed him about the chest and waist, jerking his procession to the ground to an immediate halt.  
  
Cautiously, almost afraid of who he would see, he turned his face to see, of course, Snape scowling at him from where he knelt beside Harry. Harry gulped. He tried for a weak smile. “Eh-heh...thanks?”  
  
Snape's scowl only got fiercer. “Merlin, Potter, can’t you even  _fall_  correctly?! You are supposed to put your hands out to catch yourself, you clumsy brat!”  
  
Harry was embarrassed at his own stupidity, but he tried again to diffuse the situation. “Well, Professor, since I figured I would be landing on you again, I didn’t think it necessary.”  
  
Snape blinked, taken aback. There was a stifled giggle from somewhere in the group of students that were watching the entire event. Snape didn’t spare them a glance as he frowned with narrowed eyes down at the boy in his arms. Which of course led him to realize that indeed, he was still holding onto Potter. Immediately, he let go.  
  
So fast in fact that Harry fell the short distance to the ground, barely catching himself before kissing the stone. He immediately pushed back up to a sitting position and scowled up at the tall, imposing figure that glared down at him. “Gee, thanks.”  
  
“I think I have rescued you enough for one day, Mister Potter,” drawled Snape. “If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you would do your falling elsewhere.”  
  
Harry scowled, standing up and dusting himself off. “Gladly!” he proclaimed hotly, spinning about and shoving past the people that were staring. He walked swiftly down the hall, Ron and Hermione tailing close behind him.  
  
Snape looked at the rest of the students staring at him. He glared. “You are dismissed!”

********************************

  
  
The next day had a quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. A good two hours into the game, Harry caught the snitch and Gryffindor won. Grinning and waving the snitch in the air as he made his descent towards his team mates who were waiting on the ground, he didn’t realize at first that their cheers had turned to shouts of warning and their waving was hardly in congratulations.  
  
With horror he looked to the side, just in time to notice the bludger heading straight for his head. He ducked, and it went whizzing over his head mere inches away. He watched it swing back towards him and swerved quickly to the left at such a sharp angle that the broom stopped altogether and Harry, prisoner of Murphy’s law, went flying over the handle. Luckily for him, he was pretty close to the ground. Unfortunately, there was one person in his way from the soft, welcoming grass: Professor Snape.  
  
The man was looking up with an incredulous expression as Harry, arms wide and palms outstretched as though to prevent colliding with Snape, fell towards him. Snape managed to step back in time enough to save his head, but unfortunately he wound up sprawled on his back when Harry collided with his chest. Dazed and disbelieving, Snape lay there staring up at the sky.  
  
Harry, to his credit, was quick to recover from the fall, though he winced as he pushed himself up. He had obviously twisted his wrist awkwardly. Straddling Snape, about to get up, he realized the man was staring up blankly at the sky. Instantly forgetting the position he was in, he feared he’d given the man a concussion. He leaned over, staring down into those black eyes, which blinked to focus on his face.  
  
“Professor Snape? Professor, are you all right?” he asked worriedly.  
  
Snape found himself staring, in close proximity, to those startling green eyes, which showed clear worry in them. The tone, too, sounded worried. He frowned, then scowled. “Of course I am not all right, Potter! You have, yet again, managed to  _fall_  onto  _me_!”  
  
Harry bit his lip, suddenly wanting to laugh. It was just such a ridiculous situation. Two days, and he’d managed to fall onto Snape four times. What were the odds of being trip-jinxed three times in one day, then being attacked by a stray bludger the very next day, causing him to fall onto the professor? He didn’t think them very high. Snape's scowl grew even fiercer, and Harry couldn’t stop the nervous laughter that threatened to escape.  
  
Snape was about to snap at Potter for  _still_  being on top of him, and for  _laughing_  of all things, but the laughter made Potter shift, and Snape suddenly became very aware that the boy was straddling him, and that their groins were rubbing against each other. It was the most inappropriate thing in the world, but Snape felt himself getting hard. His eyes widened and reacting instantly, he shoved Potter off of him forcefully, causing the startled boy to yelp and fall into the ground to the side.  
  
Snape leaped to his feet and dusted himself off, though he knew that his back probably had grass all over it. He suddenly realized that yet again they were the center of attention. A few students were laughing somewhere. The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were standing around them, with varying expressions of shock and incredulity. Snape glared at all of them, spun about, and swiftly walked away.  
  
Harry, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all, was startled when a red head leaned over him.  
  
“Are you all right, mate?” Ron asked, worried.  
  
Harry couldn’t help it. He laughed even harder. “Am...am I all right? I’ve m-managed to yet a-again, f-fall on t-top of  _Snape_  of all people!” he exclaimed through his ridiculous laughter.  
  
Ron frowned, then looked up at his teammates. “I think he’s gone bonkers,” he said.  
  
That only made Harry laugh even harder. His ribs hurt from the effort.

*******************************

  
  
It was confirmed by Pomfrey that indeed, Harry had twisted his wrist. She quickly fixed it up and gave him a pain drought for any remaining discomfort. At Ron’s insistence, she assured him that no, Harry hadn’t gone mad. He was perfectly sane. Ron was still skeptical.  
  
Hermione, for her part, was rather quiet. Harry knew that look. She was trying to figure out something. He knew she had to be thinking about the odd incidents where he kept falling onto Professor Snape. It was confirmed when, as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, she commented, “Isn’t it odd that you keep falling on Snape, Harry?”  
  
“Well, if you want to put it into such lame terms. Yeah, it’s odd. Weird, gross, and thoroughly funny, actually,” Harry replied.  
  
“How is this funny, mate?” Ron asked incredulously.  
  
“Ron, did you  _see_  his expression on the pitch? The incredulity! It was hilarious!”  
  
Ron frowned suspiciously. “Sorry, mate, but I was too far away. All I saw was you lean over him, then start laughing like a mad man.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry said, then, “Oh! Oh no, that looked bad, didn’t it? I thought I’d given him a concussion or something, that’s why I leaned over him! Ugh, they’re going to be talking about this again, aren’t they?” he groaned.  
  
“Again? Mate, they haven’t stopped,” Ron retorted.  
  
“Well this little incident didn’t help matters, did it?” Harry mused resignedly.  
  
“Hello, back to main issue here, boys. Which is  _why_  Harry keeps falling onto Snape,” Hermione put in.  
  
Ron frowned, “Well how should we know?”  
  
“Yesterday it was tripping jinxes...even when there was no one with a wand around to cause it, and today a rogue bludger causes him to fall of his broom  _directly_  over Professor Snape? These can’t just be coincidences.”  
  
“So what do you think it is?” asked Harry.  
  
“Hm, well, the only thing I can think of is that someone is doing this on purpose. Someone who is capable of casting a tripping jinx without a want, and controlling a bludger without anyone taking notice to it. But then of course, I’m stumped as to why anyone would want to do that just to make Harry fall onto Snape,” Hermione mused.  
  
“Yeah, who would be sick enough to want  _that_?” Ron asked in disgust.  
  
“Well, hopefully they’ve had their fun and will leave me alone,” Harry muttered darkly.

*****************************

  
  
“Harry and Snape, laying on the ground, s-n-o-g-g-i-n-g. First comes snogs, then comes shags, then comes a ba—“  
  
“Finish that at your own risk,” drawled a recognizable voice darkly. The two Slytherins in question jumped and spun about to see Snape, arms folded over his chest, glaring at them a few feet away. They quickly shouted an apology and ran in the opposite direction.  
  
Harry, watching the incident with Hermione and Ron next to him, could only feel relief. The taunts had been nonstop all day. Now it was almost dinner time, and his patience was on its end. He was grateful that Snape had stopped it and smiled warily at the professor. “Um, thanks, Professor.”  
  
Snape glared at him. “I did not do that for your benefit, Mister Potter. Students should show respect to their professors, especially my own Slytherins.”  
  
“Er...right,” Harry said awkwardly. He thought it best not to mention that for the most part, it was the Slytherins making the jokes and spreading the rumors. He merely waved awkwardly and followed Ron and Hermione to the Great Hall. He hadn’t tripped once, not even around Snape. He was relieved that it was all over.  
  
************************  
  
He thought too soon.  
  
The next day they had potions again. Harry, convinced that the falling was over, wasn’t worried at all. Since it was potions, the Slytherins wouldn’t taunt him. He was going to enjoy the peace. That is, until Snape walked by while Harry was standing on the stepladder used to reach the ingredients on the high shelves. The trip-jinx hit him just as he was standing on tip-toe to reach a jar of dried newt tails.  
  
“W-whoa!” he teetered backwards, flailing arms about wildly in a meager attempt at maintaining his balance. Of course that didn’t work. So, attempting to save himself from landing on his back, he spun about as he fell...only to see Snape reaching out to steady him before he fell. Unfortunately his twisting about spoiled that plan as Snape's hands missed and Harry instead fell into the man's arms.  
  
Stumbling back at the weight, Snape tripped over a small stack of books that some foolish student left sticking out in the isle slightly. Thus, they both fell to the ground, Snape managing to reach back with one hand to slow the fall so that he didn’t hit the stone quite so hard. It still hurt and his head still smacked against the stone, but he didn’t crack his skull so he figured it was a good trade-off.  
  
Snape resigned himself to the fact that, indeed, this  _thing_ , whatever it was, was not going to go away so easily. He still scowled though. “Potter!” he barked, “what do you have to say  _this_  time?” he sneered, glaring at the boy who was propping himself over Snape, looking down at him with wide eyes.  
  
“Um,” Harry stammered, “I saved your newt tails?” He held up the jar, safe in his hand.  
  
Snape was taken aback, and glanced briefly at the jar, then back at Potter. Who seemed to be biting back the ridiculous laughter that had taken over him yesterday. The look was, Merlin forbid it, _adorable_. And he became acutely aware that they were back in a similar position as yesterday, and if Potter laughed, Snape was afraid he’d have a similar reaction as yesterday. In the next instant he shoved Potter off of him, jumped to his feet, and barked out, “Ten points from Gryffindor! Detention with Filch tomorrow at six!”  
  
Harry gulped, nodded with wide eyes, and got to his feet shakily. He took a newt tail out of the jar, and left the jar on one of the lower shelves, for fear of falling again if he got onto the stepladder. He went back to his table, ignoring the smirks from the Slytherins, and handed the new tail silently to Hermione. The girl looked distracted and didn’t even realize the tail was being handed to her at first. Then she snapped out of her stupor and took the tail, beginning to dice it.

**************************

  
  
Detention with Filch was grueling. Harry couldn’t find much to complain about, though, because he’d gone another day without falling onto Snape. He now considered it a good day if he didn’t fall on the man. So as he trudged up a set of stairs back to Gryffindor tower, lost in thoughts about how much he hated Filch and that darned cat of his, he was startled to hear footsteps coming down the hall. He glanced back down the stairs to see Snape come into sight, probably on his nightly rounds.  
  
Snape looked just as startled to see Harry as the boy did to see him, but Harry was the first to recover. Harry jumped to the side of the stairs and grabbed onto the railing, looking down at him in fear. Snape, who had been about to ask why Harry was still out so late, looked perplexed by the sudden action. “Just what do you think you are you doing, Mister Potter?”  
  
“I don’t care for falling down a flight of stairs, Professor,” Harry retorted.  
  
Snape blinked, scowling, but couldn’t really say anything snide about that since he fully agreed with the sentiment. He nodded curtly. “A good idea, for this time I will most assuredly step aside and allow you to fall.”  
  
Harry scowled. “Gee, thanks.”  
  
Snape glared. “Get back to your dorm, Potter.”  
  
“I was on my way before you—“ Harry was interrupted because suddenly a shrieking cackle came from up the stairs. Startled, he looked up but didn’t see anything.  
  
“Snape and Potty laying on the ground, s-n-o-g-g-i-n-g, first comes snogs, then comes shags, then comes babies in the baby carriage! Wheeehehehehehe!” came the shrill voice.  
  
All of a sudden Peeves zoomed out of the wall and straight towards one thoroughly startled Harry. Peeves flew right  _through_  Harry, and the boy, jumping in surprise at the completely gross feeling of a ghost going through his body, let go of the railing and, stepping backwards without realizing he had to also step down, lost his balance. It was much the same as yesterday, where Harry spun about to try to catch himself.  
  
This time, however, Snape was much quicker and was jumping up the stairs to catch the boy before he fell and hit his head. Though he did grab the boy about the waist, the angle was wrong and Snape almost lost his grip. However, Harry grabbed onto  _him_ , and consequently pulled Snape towards him, making them both fall. Lucky for them, there were only two steps below them, so they were spared a horrible tumble but still hit the ground hard. They both landed on their sides, and Snape with his arms about Harry’s waist, grunted when Harry’s hipbone slammed into his wrist.  
  
Cautiously opening his eyes, Snape looked at Harry. Harry, however, had his eyes closed. “Potter?” he asked. When he got no response, Snape's eyes widened in alarm as he had a sudden fear that Harry must have hit his head in the fall. Carefully pulling his hand out from beneath Harry, he sat up and gently rolled Harry onto his back. He then moved to kneel over Harry, checking his forehead for any discoloration. He didn’t find any, so he gently smacked his hand against Harry’s cheek. “Mister Potter, can you hear me?”  
  
Harry’s eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing those dark eyes staring down into his so intently, his own widened. He gasped for breath, taking in great lungfuls before answering the worried man. “I’m fine, I think the breath just got knocked out of me, though.”  
  
Snape looked relieved for a moment before he cleared his throat and put on his scowl. “Next time, hold onto the railing more firmly, Potter,” he sneered.  
  
Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Next time? I rather hoped this was all over.”  
  
Snape scowled ever fiercer. That look was just  _killing_  his resolve, and he hadn’t a clue why. “Apparently, Mister Potter, it is not!” he barked a little too harshly, trying to make up for the fact that all he wanted to do was smirk in wry amusement.  
  
“Right, I think I got that message loud and clear. So next time, how about you try to catch me  _before_  I fall?”  
  
Snape glared. “Impertinent boy. Get back to your dorm before I take away house points!”  
  
Harry couldn’t stop the grinning because the whole situation was just so funny, but he did get to his feet and nod. “Right, I’ll hold onto the railing more firmly this time, then.” So he did, but when he got to the top of the stairs he couldn’t help asking, “So, you aren’t going to take away house points for this, Professor?”  
  
“Twenty house points!” came the barked reply.  
  
Harry chuckled before speeding up to get to Gryffindor Tower. That night he dreamed of an angry knight in black armor who saved him.

******************************

  
  
Harry went two days without any incidents. Though Ron cheered and Hermione seemed rather relieved, for some reason Harry felt rather depressed. Of course he didn’t  _want_  to fall on Snape, but for some reason that was all he could think about. On the third day, after waking up from a dream where an angry black-armored knight kissed him senseless because he was ‘impertinent,’ Harry admitted that he had indeed come to rely on Snape always being there to catch him when he fell. He rather enjoyed the banter, and seeing the surprised face on the man whom rarely ever showed any emotion other than anger and annoyance. He much enjoyed being the one to fluster him.  
  
So of course, Harry gave credit to Ron's theory that he was going mad. There was no way he could  _ever_  think of Snape like that. But, he didn’t know what ‘that’ meant. Did he have a crush on Snape? No, absolutely not. No one could possibly have a crush on the greasy, snarky, old potions master.  
  
Harry, apparently, was no one, because the more he thought about it the more he truly missed those arms around him, ensuring he was okay. He missed that incredulous expression, the worried expression. So when potions came around, he was almost  _hoping_  that he would be tripped. But of course, that didn’t happen. Depressed, Harry followed the bantering Ron and Hermione to their next class. Hermione was the one who noticed his gloomy expression first and questioned, “Harry, what’s wrong?”  
  
“Hm? Oh, nothing,” Harry replied rather unconvincingly.  
  
Hermione, ever the observant one, frowned for several moments before her eyes widened. “Harry, are you upset that you haven’t been tripping lately?”  
  
“What? Why would he be upset that he  _isn’t_  tripping?” asked Ron incredulously.  
  
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Hermione plowed on, convinced.  
  
Harry shook his head in denial. “No, of course not! I’m just...really tired, I guess.”  
  
Hermione frowned, but Ron grinned. “See, there you have it, he’s just tired! Mate, you should get to bed early tonight.”  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, and avoided Hermione’s skeptical gaze.

****************************

  
  
They had potions again the next day, as they had been working on a potion that required two days to brew. Snape seemed to be putting the entire fiasco behind them, and went back to treating the class as he usually did. Harry felt even more depressed, because it seemed Snape wasn’t feeling the same withdrawal that he was. As it neared the end of the class, Harry came to the conclusion that it must just be that: withdrawal. After a few more days, he would get over this little fancy and everything would be back to normal.  
  
With that thought firmly planted in his mind, Harry offered to take the leftover ingredients back to their jars. He purposely offered to do so because he would be forced to use the stepladder again. Harry figured that it would prove once and for all that he was done with the whole falling thing.  
  
He put the ingredients away easily, and was putting the last jar back on the top shelf when suddenly Snape barked out, “Mister Potter! Get down from that—“  
  
“Ah!” Harry, jumping at the sudden shout in a classroom that had otherwise been rather subdued, made him lose his balance. He had a flashback to the last time this had happened and, sure enough, when he twisted about there was Snape, trying to prevent him from falling but only succeeding in catching him. For a moment it appeared that Snape would keep his balance, finally successfully saving them both, but then Harry felt the magic of the tripping jinx take its hold and the professor went down, dragging Harry along with him.  
  
There was complete silence. Harry cautiously raised his head from where it had been resting on Snape's chest to look down at the man. Snape was staring up at the ceiling with a look that could only be described as resigned. It made Harry chuckle.  
  
Snape's gaze shot down from the ceiling to look at Harry, startled that the boy was laughing. Snape felt his groin reacting to the vibration, and he barked out harshly, “What is it this time, Potter?!”  
  
Harry grinned and said the first thing that came to mind: “I think I’m falling for you.”

************************  
  
 **Epilogue**  
  
************************

  
  
Up in a hidden-away office, an old wizard chuckled as the story was retold to him. “Oh, very good, Dobby. That was excellent work. You and Peeves did a fine job.”  
  
“Master Harry won’t be angry with Dobby, will he?” asked the house-elf nervously.  
  
The old wizard waved a hand dismissively, “Of course not, Dobby! Why, I bet if he ever found out he would laugh and thank you. Best not to let Severus find out, however, as I’m sure he’ll want to hex to next Sunday. Even though he is sure to end up quite happy from our efforts.”  
  
The house-elf nodded, and smiled brightly. “Master Harry will be happy? Dobby is glad to be hearing it! Master Harry deserves to be happy!”  
  
“Indeed he does, Dobby, as does Severus. Yes, a very fine job.”

***********************  
  
 _ **~Fin**_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally published in 2006 and was cross-posted on ForeverFandom (which has, I believe, now shut down), HPFandom (which looks like it may be shutting down soon), and SkyeHawke (which no longer exists, apparently?)


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